The Nomad

Before Sunrise I shall be off to my doom One nation’s ruins My empire consumes I will march, I will step Left foot, right foot In continuous reps I shall slaughter or be slaughtered These morbid thoughts Allow me not to falter The evening before my departure Flashbacks of the famine I once brought you I look upon the face of the infant one The gods have blessed this father with I come to hold The wife I no longer bother to kiss March I shall For the empire that has nourished me From infant to child, child to man From man, to battlefield god Your favoritism is what I demand This morning has come, This morning has past In the gods I trust In this steel, my treasure at hand To kill, to lust, No separation of us No signs of your favor No shift in my behavior Grave I may be The opposition of life often waves at me As your loyal subject I write to you My lord Your newly speared nomad